I like people, I really do. Not a lot- but somewhat. It's definitely not a love thing. More a nod and a wave kind of “I'd help you if you need it but probably not take a bullet for you” thing with humanity as a whole.

Let me try that again.

I appreciate people.

I appreciate their differences both physically and in personality; all sizes, shapes, kindreds, and tongues. I appreciate that people are individuals who sometimes want (sometimes desperately) to be identified as belonging to some subset of humanity. Good for them. I recognize and appreciate that. I also appreciate their desire for personal vindication through incessant recruitment for their subset. Their belief that my joining them will somehow validate their choice- that in saving me, they are justified in what they do- no matter how ridiculous their current fad may be.

I'm most definitely not saying that what everyone else is into at the moment is ridiculous, nor am I saying that what I'm into isn't. I am a remarkably ridiculous individual, a disappointment to my mother, and a mysterious enigma to those who have breached the perimeter of my meager influence. I'm most surely no prize and my personal esteem is without measure- that's right, nothing.

But I'm good with all that because there is nowhere to go but up, nothing to do but improve, and little to say but, “Thanks, but no thanks!” when it comes to invitations designed to miraculously change my life.

All the programs, classes, diets, trainers, pills, powders, and miscellaneous voodoo are just not for me. I'm about transformation; lasting change, and permanent modification. In my mind, all the quick-fixes are short term.

There is an aerobics class that meets right next door to the weight room. It's an enthusiastically loud group with an outrageously loud teacher who constantly yells and screams her students through their workout. “Good for her,” I say. “Good for them,” I say. “Join us,” they say. “Thanks but no thanks,” says I.

I can only imagine what relief I would feel once the class was over and the teacher was no longer around to scream at me. It would be like a vacation- which means that the class would be exactly the opposite; work under a screaming boss. Ugh!

But it might work, I might get into better shape- at least while I am in class. Outside of class my motivator would not exist, and without her I'd probably slack off.

What I'm getting at here is that, in my mind, it's up to ME to do the screaming and yelling. It's up to me to motivate myself through this renaissance. It's up to me because I'm the only one who is always going to be there throughout the entire process and I'm the only one who is going to stick around long enough to enjoy the results.

As of this morning I've lost 89 pounds since May. Me. I did this. Not a pill, a trainer, or a program. Me. I'm confident that if I stay my course I will reach my goal. Would someone else's fad diet, trainer, or pill help me? Possibly, but I think I'll pass. What I'm doing is working for me- any distraction will probably slow me down.

Maybe you should be doing what I'm doing. Hey, I can get you started.

Gotcha! You do whatever you want. I appreciate your motivations. I appreciate your individuality. Hell, I might even like you...

But let's keep it casual. You do your thing and I'll do mine.